Alexander King Thriller Series: Books 1-3

by Bradley Wright

  “All right, we’ll come along,” Sam said.

  Kyle’s expression turned to shock.

  Sam knew if she fought the men on going with them, they wouldn’t be afraid to pull their weapons and shoot right there. And while they may not hit Sam or Kyle, someone else would surely be injured or worse, in these tight quarters. Though exiting the plane was the last thing she wanted to do, she knew there was no other option. Either way, she and Kyle weren’t leaving on that plane, whether she fought them in the aisle or not. Everyone on the plane would be detained if there was a violent incident.

  “Sam, they—”

  “They caught us, Kyle. Let’s just go and take our medicine.”

  Kyle’s face brightened. He knew Sam would never surrender. She always knew Kyle’s processor was a few bits slower than her own. Kyle fell in line, and the two men actually smiled when Sam and Kyle didn’t put up a fight. Also not something common of an agent. Sam just hoped these two were the only ones at the airport who had come for them. But she figured that wouldn’t be the case. Men like these ran in packs.

  Sam reached down for her bag and simultaneously hit the CALL button on her phone as she slid it into her pocket. It would dial the last number she spoke to.

  Alexander King.

  The two men ushered them out in front, and as Sam walked behind Kyle toward the door, there were two more men waiting in the jetway. Absolutely terrible news. She didn’t know who they were or whom they worked for, but she knew they weren’t going to be taking them to FBI headquarters, and definitely not back to Langley. The question wasn’t if she and Kyle were going to have to fight to get away from these men, but when.

  Either way, they weren’t going to be in Mexico City any time soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  King walked back out into the living area of José’s small apartment. José was pointing to something on a map.

  “Sorry for the delay,” King said. “Had to take a call. You boys get everything worked out?”

  José moved his finger on the map. “Here is where Ortega is for the night. He keeps a suite at the St. Regis when he believes his properties could be compromised.” He looked up at King. “Since you are still on the loose, he’s playing it safe here. He will have maybe four men inside the suite with him. Two in a vehicle in the parking lot watching the front door, and of course a literal army that could be dispatched in minutes.”

  “So basically it’s suicide,” Lawson said.

  “Let’s look at this from another angle,” King said. “Lawson, you obviously are only here for revenge. You have no other motivation.”

  Lawson shrugged.

  “José, I’m assuming you just want to finish what you started and bring an end to your long undercover mission.”

  José nodded. “Basically, yeah.”

  “And my motivation is to clear my name,” King said. Then he held up his hand to Lawson who was about to speak. “I also want to stop Ortega from being able to do this to other girls, Lawson. As José knows, I’ve laid my life on the line before to stop a human trafficker. My point is, the two of you can just walk away, and should. No one knows you’re involved, and it is not worth risking your life for this today. We are too outnumbered, and we don’t have any other sort of advantage in the situation that can help us win.”

  “We know where Ortega is,” Lawson said. “That isn’t an advantage?”

  King looked at José. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d be willing to bet it wouldn’t have been that hard to find out he’s at the St. Regis even if we didn’t have you, José, am I right?”

  José looked at Lawson. “He’s not wrong.”

  “And you said you have a daughter, right?” King took a couple of steps toward Lawson.

  “Yes, but I can’t let this monster get away with killing Brittany. I can’t have my daughter ask me what I did about her babysitter’s death and tell her I could have stepped in, but did nothing.”

  “Better than a couple of police officers showing up at your door to tell your daughter that you’re dead.”

  Lawson put his hands on his hips, but he didn’t have anything to say. It was hard to argue with the ugly truth.

  “I’ve been thinking,” King said. “Even though I have two more top-notch agents coming to help us, it’s not enough. Years ago I would have run headfirst into this thing—endangering everyone with my recklessness. But boys, this is a raid fit for a full-on military team—not for a few people who have never worked together before—no matter how skilled we are individually.”

  “So what are you saying, X?” José said, putting his hands on his hips. “We just quit?”

  “No, I’m saying we use our heads instead of our hearts. Trust me, it’s not something I’m used to.”

  “So, what then?” Lawson said. “If we don’t take out Ortega, how do any of us get what we want?”

  King looked at José. “What was the name of the guy you said was making the fake videos of me?”

  “Manuel. Manuel Cortez.”

  “Does he have an army protecting him?” King said.

  “No,” José said.

  “Then we start with him.”

  “You want the tech guy?” José said.

  “No,” Lawson answered for King. “He wants the tech guy’s computer.”

  King made a gun with his hand and shot a “correct” air bullet at Lawson.

  “I get how that helps you, King,” Lawson said. “You find evidence of faking the videos of you on the computer of one of Ortega’s men, and the CIA backs off of you. But what about Brittany?” Lawson looked at José. “And wouldn’t that leave José here in the wind?”

  “Getting the computer is just the first step,” King said. “How do you eat an elephant?”

  “What?” José said.

  “Seriously?” Lawson wasn’t amused.

  “I know, it seems silly,” King said. “But it’s true here. We can’t take Ortega all at once. It has to be—”

  “One bite at a time,” José said.

  “Glad you caught up there,” Lawson said as he gave him a pat on the shoulder.

  José shrugged. “I don’t like it. I say we hit Ortega while he is in a soft zone at the hotel. The rest will be easy.”

  “I disagree,” Lawson said. “King’s right.”

  “Right about what? It being dangerous?” José said. “Well, no shit. You don’t think it’s dangerous being an undercover agent with these guys? My entire life is danger.”

  “Who do you think you’re talking to?” King said. He didn’t like how much pushback he was getting from José. He understood it—the man’s life was hanging in the balance—but he didn’t like it.

  “Look,” Lawson said, turning to José, “I don’t have the military experience you have, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen my share of tight spots. And from the sounds of it, King here and I have a lot in common. I used to storm the castle too soon too. Almost got myself, my partner, and my daughter killed in the process. I want Ortega for what he did to a sweet girl, but I don’t want to leave my daughter without a father.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have come to Mexico,” José said.

  King watched as the two men puffed their chests. If this is what he’d looked like to Sam all those times he pushed to race into battle over the years, he owed her an apology. “Men, cool off. We’re on the same team and we have the same goals.”

  “Do we?” José stared a hole through King.

  King didn’t like being challenged, and he let his ego get the best of him.

  “You better watch who you’re talking to. Not only am I your superior, but I’ll whip your ass.”

  Just as things began to boil over, King’s phone started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and saw it was the same number Sam had called from. He held up a finger and answered. He heard some rustling on her end, and for a moment King thought maybe Sam had butt-dialed him. Then he heard Sam’s voice. It was far away, like she was standing at the other
side of the room, but he managed to hear five words that sent a chill down his spine.

  “Where are you taking us?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Where are you taking us?” Sam said to the four men now escorting her and Kyle up the jetway.

  At the entrance back into the airport, airport security looked to be in full cooperation. This meant not only that the men’s FBI credentials were real but also that there had been some sort of formal phone call made to the head of airport security from someone in the FBI. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to enter the airport with guns so quickly. This didn’t mean it was actually someone from the FBI, but whoever these men were, their leader knew the rules and was very meticulous in following them. This made Sam nervous.

  “In for questioning,” the man holding Sam’s arm answered. “Where do you think?”

  “Questioning for what exactly?”

  Sam wanted to keep the men talking while she tried to figure out her and Kyle’s next move. She hoped one of them would say too much and at least give her a clue.

  “We know you were on your way to help a wanted fugitive. No reason to play games.”

  “Kyle and I were on our way to Mexico to get married. I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Okay, Beverly.” The man looked at Sam and smiled in a way that led her to believe he thought he’d won. This was good. Overconfidence leads to mistakes. She just needed to be ready to capitalize.

  The men walked them out into the airport terminal. The crowd gave them a wide breadth as they gawked. She’d already figured whoever was framing Xander was an insider of some sort; this all but proved it. Knowing the inner workings of US politics among government agencies wasn’t easy for a foreign enemy. Especially not on this level. It takes some serious balls to fake FBI credentials and pull a CIA agent off an airplane. Whoever was pulling the strings was not only fully capable but also, for whatever reason, fully committed to seeing Alexander King publicly burned at the stake.

  Kyle glanced back at her. She knew he was thinking the same thing—Do we fight them now and try to dodge airport security, or do we wait until we reach the parking lot? Each option had its disadvantages, but whatever happened, Sam didn’t want any innocent people at the airport to die for her poor timing. These men didn’t know it yet, but it really was bad luck for them that Kyle had been able to make it to the plane. Without him, she wouldn’t have had a chance against all four of them.

  The four men urged the two of them along. At some points during their walk the men even received some applause from an adoring but clueless crowd. Sam was in the 90 percent range of certainty that these four men were not actually FBI. But before she murdered them in cold blood, she recognized that she needed to be 100 percent. They walked out into the cool night. The arrivals section just outside baggage claim was bustling. These men wouldn’t do anything here, but she needed to know if they were who they said they were or not before she initiated anything.

  “This a direct order from FBI Director Phillips?” Sam said.

  “None of your business really, but Director Simmons did order this directly.”

  Strike one. Either the man had been told the question might come up or he really was FBI. He knew the correct answer. Was she wrong in thinking they weren’t really FBI? Sam always relied on her instincts. Her gut was rarely wrong. And though these men hadn’t done anything outright to make her think they were imposters, other than the odd ticks and the wrong standard-issue pistol, she just couldn’t shake the feeling.

  The man who’d been doing all the talking pulled out his phone.

  “Director Simmons, we have them in custody.”

  This was Sam’s only chance. The man continued his conversation as they crossed the street toward the entrance to the short-term parking garage. Everything inside her was telling her not to go with them. She glanced over to the man on her right. As she was about to open her mouth, Kyle glanced back over his shoulder at the same man and cleared his throat.

  “You look so familiar. Do I know you? I started in the FBI. Didn’t we come up together?”

  The man didn’t speak. Kyle was taking Sam’s tactic and trying it on the other escort.

  “I know I know you. I’m sure of it.” Kyle kept on. “I trained at Quantico. You train there too? Or were you at Camp Peary?”

  Camp Peary is where the CIA trains. Sam was praying the man would fall for the bait just to shut Kyle up.

  “Hey, stop talking.” The man on the phone covered the receiver to scold Kyle. Then he went back to his call. They walked inside the parking garage. They were running out of time.

  “Nah, you were at Quantico with me,” Kyle stayed with it. “I remember now. You were the one who used to date that sexy blonde. What was her name? Angie? No, was it Brooke? Help me out here, guy—”

  “I don’t know you. Now shut up.” The man pointed forward toward the two black SUVs. It was now or never.

  “No, man. It’s you, isn’t it? Mark? Hell yeah, man. Remember that one night we—”

  “I was at Camp Peary,” the man finally said, cutting Kyle off. “You couldn’t have known me. Now shut the hell up and get in the truck.”

  Was it absolute proof these men weren’t FBI? No. But Sam knew enough about government agency pride that an FBI agent would never say he was trained at Camp Peary. Even if it was just to shut someone up.

  “Really?” Kyle said. “My bad. You look just like my Mark.”

  Sam heard the emphasis on the word my and understood why Kyle used the name Mark. She was impressed. Kyle had grown a lot since the last time they’d fought side by side. Kyle’s mark would be the man to Sam’s right, so Sam’s mark would be the man on the phone as well as the man behind her on her left. As soon as she watched Kyle rotate his hips and fire a left hand at the man next to her, Sam whipped her right foot around and kicked the man on the phone in the stomach. He doubled over as Sam let her momentum carry her right hand toward the man’s head behind her, but he ducked and hit her hard in the left side of her stomach.

  The man with the phone rose, but before he could pull his pistol, Sam managed to push-kick him hard enough on the hip to send him off balance. When the man who’d hit her came rushing toward her, she spun and he ran right by her. She saw Kyle handling the other two men as the leader she’d kicked reached in his sport coat for his gun. Sam dove at the man who’d just ran by her, tackling him to the ground behind the front of the SUV. As they landed, she reached inside his sport coat but found he didn’t have a pistol holstered there. She drove the crown of her head to the man’s nose and broke it on impact. This gave her a chance to slip her hand down his back, finding his gun resting there.

  “Nice try, but both of you stop right there or I will shoot you!”

  Sam peeked from the undercarriage of the SUV, and on the other side of the front tire she saw the leg of the man who’d reached for his gun. Two men were writhing on the ground beyond him—Kyle’s victims—and beside them she could see Kyle’s legs standing still. She knew the man was holding his gun on Kyle. Sam’s was held to the chin of the man with the broken nose. Then she moved the gun out in front of her, beneath the SUV, until the gunman’s lone visible leg was in her sights. She squeezed the trigger and blood shot out of the man’s knee as he screamed. As she moved her gun back to the man’s chin lying beside her, she watched Kyle’s legs rush forward and take down the man she’d just shot.

  Sam jumped to her feet, keeping her gun on the man with the broken nose. He’d made no attempt to fight her. Kyle rose from the other side of the SUV with a gun in his hand, backing away from the other three men on the ground. They’d managed to turn the tables, but she knew more men would be close by to step in.

  “Put him in the back and find something to tie him up,” Sam said to Kyle as she motioned toward the man with the bloody leg. “The rest of you, I advise you not to move.”

  As Kyle put the leader of the four men in the back of the SUV, Sam went around
collecting weapons. As she did, she heard something—a faint noise coming from somewhere close by. It sounded like someone shouting from the far end of a tunnel.

  Her phone. She’d forgotten that she’d dialed King and left it in her pocket for him to hear.

  Sam walked over and opened the driver door of the SUV and tossed in all the guns she’d collected except for her own. She turned back toward the three men. “Get together now and don’t move.”

  They all huddled in a line. Sam held her gun on them while she removed her phone from her back pocket.

  “Xander? Are you there?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After a frightening few minutes of listening to muffled voices leading up to gunshots, King finally heard Sam’s voice on the phone.

  “Xander? Are you there?”

  “Sam! What the hell is going on?”

  “We’re not going to make it to Mexico City tonight. Four men posing as FBI just removed us from the plane.”

  “What? Posing as FBI? How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know yet. Kyle and I have them alive. I’m about to start demanding answers. You’re in real trouble here, X. This thing runs deep. Whoever is pulling the strings knows what they’re doing, and they know how to bypass government agencies. And they know enough not only to be watching you but to be watching your friends.”

  That last statement brought King a deep feeling of unrest. It also brought back some horrible memories from the last time his friends were known and in danger. That time resulted in him faking his own death. He wasn’t going that route again. He’d die for real before he let that happen.

  “Both of you are all right?”